Last Song
by Mr. Bear
Summary: [AU] Harry was in the same room as his mother when she was murdered. But due to harsh words, he wont tell a soul what he saw...


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Title: Last Song  
**Author:** Mr. Bear  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** none. yet. future slash probably. :X  
**Pairings:** none yet. will probably end up a DM/HP or one-sided SS/HP or. something.  
**Disclaimer:** i dont own it loves.   
**Notes:** none at the moment actually.

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[prologue]:

Final Moments

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People were gathered all around him, all in black, whispering soft words to his father and occasionally bending down and giving him hugs. Telling him that it would be all right, and that he was handling the situation so well for his young age.

Harry tilted his head as he watched an older women approach his father. Her hair was in a tight bun, with black/brown hair falling down around her face. A soft motherly smile was on her face, which looked odd to Harry when put together with the dark clothing she was wearing.

She stopped in front of his father. "I'm so sorry for you loss James. For you and for Harry. If there is anything I can do I wi-"

Harry watched as his father reached out and gathered the older women in a tight hug. "Thank you Minerva." He could hear his father say quietly. "You have no idea what that means to me. I...I just don't know what to do..." 

The old women gave his father a sad smile. "None of us really know what to do James. But we will get through it. _We will get through it_." Her voice had tightened at the end, and Harry found himself biting his lip. The women looked like she was about to cry, and so did his father. Reaching forward, he grabbed on to the end of her skirt.

"Its ok lady." The women got a surprised look on her face, before covering it up with a small smile. Harry was rather surprised when she bent down and took a hold of his shoulders. 

The women sent a little look over at his father before focusing her full attention once more on him. "So you must be young Mr. Harry Potter." Harry quickly nodded with a smile. 

"The one and only! 'Cause, my dad is Mr. James Potter. So we aren't the same."

The women's smile got a litter bigger, and Harry randomly noticed that she had a lot more wrinkles around her eyes then his father did. "So thats how it is then. Well, Mr. Harry Potter, I am Minerva McGonagall, and I will be your teacher when you finally go to Hogwarts."

Harry's eyes opened wide. "Really?!" His mother had told him tons about Hogwarts. He was already counting the days until he would reach his 11th birthday and be able to go.

"Yes...and I am sure we will have a lovely time." Before she could say anything more Harry heard his father cough and turned his attention towards him.

"Thats enough Minerva." Harry frowned. His father sounded so tired. Why wasn't his mother around to tell him to go and rest? He had avoided asking the question, because of all the sad people that were around. But he had been curious for over a week. One day his mother had been there, telling him a story, and the next minute he had been shoved under the floor boards. He couldn't quite remember what happened after that, only that afterwards his father and been crying, and his mother was gone. The next couple of days people were all around, and all though Harry looked, he couldn't find his mother anywhere. He was starting to very much miss her, and couldn't help the question from bubbling out of his mouth.

"Father, where's mother?" The lady, Minerva McGonagall he reminded himself, who was still bent down next to him had a shocked look on her face, while his father just went completely still. Blinking, Harry tried again. "Father? Where's Mothe-"

"Be quiet Harry." Hearing the harsh tone of from his father, Harry winced and took a step backwards. "I'm sorry father."

The women, Minerva, stood up slowly and gave him a tiny smile. "Harry, I need to speak with her father. Why don't you go run along and see what your godfather is doing?"

Harry gave a nod, turned away, and exited the crowded room; upset that he had obviously done something wrong. Harry had only gone a little way when he remember that he had forgotten to give his father a goodbye hug. Turning around he had started to walk through the people back to his father. He looked around briefly, but couldn't see him anywhere. Getting a little nervous Harry started to wring his hands together. After a couple of minutes of searching he finally heard his fathers voice coming from behind a solid oak door. Putting a smile on his face, he gently pushed forward in. Only to quickly duck behind a large pillar when he heard his fathers voice turn cold and harsh. 

"Damn it Minerva! He knows what happened!"

"Obviously not James! He's just a boy! I do believe he hasn't even turned six yet. You need to explain this to him." She paused for a second. calming herself down. "James...he's just a boy...."

"Minerva. You dont understand." His fathers tone was sharp, and even through it wasn't directed at him, Harry felt himself flinch. "He was in the room when she was killed. Under the floor. He knows what happened better then any of us do."

"James..."

"He says he doesn't remember anything, but I know he must have heard _something_! He's the only witness to the damn thing Minerva, and he wont talk about it!" Harry bit is lip and bowed his head, feeling tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. His father sounded like he was crying.

Closing his eyes tight, Harry quickly fled the room.

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Sitting on his bed, Harry could still hear the people down the stairs milling about. He gently drew patterns with his fingers over his the top of his bed spread, while thinking about how the day had gone. His father was so angry at him, and his mother wasn't in their house any longer...

Harry kicked off his shoes and settled himself back down on his bed, laying on his side. When he had been younger he had liked to tell stories. His mother had loved them, and would sit down with him for hours just listening to him. His father on the other hand hadn't liked them much at all. He had told him over and over again that if he wasn't sure of something or if he was just guessing, then that made the story unbelievable. And if you didn't believe in a story, then the story held no magic for those who were listening to it.

He did remember some things from that night. But he wasn't going to repeat them. Because he knew his father wouldn't believe him anyway.

He remembered his mothers laugh...and then the sound of something breaking...

Harry let out a small sigh and then sat up fully on his bed with a pout. He would always remember what happened that night. But he would never tell his father about it. Because that night was blurry, and he honestly couldn't remember what was real and what wasn't.

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[/End][prologue]:

Final Moments

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End Notes: well...yes. i actually have nothing to say about this. R&R loves? i like feedback, even if it is just pointing out a mistake here or there, or something you didn't like. 


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